


Some Kind of Arrangement

by PeroxidePirate



Category: Tamora Pierce - Emelan
Genre: Emelan, Gen, Tamora Pierce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-02
Updated: 2009-12-02
Packaged: 2017-10-04 02:33:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeroxidePirate/pseuds/PeroxidePirate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tris is at loose ends. The Duke has a proposal for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Kind of Arrangement

  
  
  
**Entry tags:** |   
[circle](http://peroxidepirate.livejournal.com/tag/circle), [tamora pierce](http://peroxidepirate.livejournal.com/tag/tamora+pierce), [tris](http://peroxidepirate.livejournal.com/tag/tris)  
  
---|---  
  
_**fic: Some Kind of Arrangement (Tamora Pierce, 1000 words, PG)**_  
**Title: **Some Kind of Arrangement  
**Rating: **PG  
**Fandom: **Tamora Pierce (Circle verse)  
**Disclaimer:** These characters and their universe are not owned by me.  
**Characters:** Tris, Duke Vedris  
**Summary: **Tris is at loose ends. The Duke has a proposal for her.

 

Some Kind of Arrangement

 

"Your Grace, forgive me." Trisana Chandler didn't particularly try to mask the irritation in her voice. "If I had been expecting you, I'd have met you downstairs. Briar and Daja are out--"

"That's quite all right," said Duke Vedris. "I have a private matter to discuss with you."

"Oh," Tris replied, slightly taken aback. She looked around her cluttered work room -- so different from the neat parlor below, where healthy plants in gleaming brass pots ornamented the polished tables. She shifted books and scrolls aside to make a clear space on the window seat. "You might as well sit down, then."

"Thank you." The duke settled himself, and Tris returned to her work stool. "I'm sorry things didn't work out at Lightsbridge," he continued. "But I must confess, for myself, I am glad to have you back in Summersea."

Tris gritted her teeth. It still stung, that she hadn't succeeded in becoming a simple academic mage. "It's... a relief to be back," she managed at last. It was a relief to be herself again. She couldn't, even in politeness, say she was glad.

"Have you given much thought to your next endeavor?"

She had, of course. She'd thought about it all the way back, and constantly in the two weeks since she arrived. Without a license to sell charms, it seemed she was down to two options: go back to keeping house for Daja and Briar, or take vows at Winding Circle. Neither appealed. "Not yet, Your Grace."

He nodded, understanding that she wasn't willing to discuss it. "I have a proposition I'd like you to consider," he said carefully. "I would like to hire you."

"Hire me?" She scowled. "Why?"

The duke adjusted his tunic. "You -- and Daja and Briar, of course, but most especially you -- have been invaluable to me, more times than I can count. I would like to make it an official arrangement."

"What kind of arrangement?"

He chose his words carefully. "You can see things, hear things..."

Tris felt cold inside. "You want me to spy?" Her voice was flat.

"I wouldn't ask that of you," the duke said, meeting her eyes. "But there is information that comes your way, whether you like it or not. And some of it is vital to protecting Emelan. You have always been willing to protect the realm--"

"I won't do battle magic," she snapped.

"I realize that."

"You'll hire me to not spy and not do battle magic?" she asked, skeptically.

"The right information, acted on at the right time, can prevent battles. As it has in the past, when you have seen and heard certain things. That's all--"

"No." Tris crossed her arms over her chest. "Thank you, but no. Shall I show you out?"

They stared at each other in silence, until Tris realized he wasn't leaving so easily. She relented and spoke first. "Sandry put you up this, didn't she?"

"She doesn't know about it."

Tris hid her surprise with a scowl. "It's because of her, though."

"In a way," he admitted.

"I won't take it."

"Trisana, this is how things work."

"Not for me. I'll take what I can get on my own merit, nothing more--"

"That's not what I mean," the duke interrupted. His voice was serious, and Tris realized she'd made him angry. "You and I are friends because of Sandry, and you ought to consider my offer out of friendship alone. But if that's not enough, think of it this way: we are both powerful people, and power can easily corrupt. Yet Sandry respects us both. We can trust her judgement of character, and can therefore trust each other. And that, my dear, is why I would rather employ you than any other mage with your talents." He paused. "If there were any available, which you know perfectly well there are not."

Tris rubbed her temples, just above the earpieces of her spectacles. He was making a warped kind of sense. "You still haven't told me what I would actually do."

"What have you always done? Ride the winds. Look for weather magic gone wrong, disasters for which we need to prepare, other mages who have lost control of themselves. Listen. See. Help me solve the problems that can't be solved by diplomacy or brute force." His voice was friendly again, and he smiled. "Get credit -- and gold -- for doing it."

Tris thought of being able to stay in Summersea and pay for her keep at Number 6 Cheeseman Street. Being, for once, more than a poor relation. Having something of her own. More than that -- she knew what the duke's advisors were paid. With the right investments, she would one day be able to travel independently, as Niko did. If she'd really earned this chance, it was a dream come true.

It must have shown on her face, because the duke withdrew a scroll from his vest. "This is a contract, outlining the details of the arrangement. You would have a work room in the Citadel, and your expenses -- supplies, equipment, books, anything -- would be paid. It sets the number of hours you would devote to my interests. The rest of your time would be your own. You could continue to live here, if you like, or I could arrange rooms for you at the Citadel."

"That won't be necessary." Tris looked happily about her work room.

"I thought not," the duke agreed. He continued his explanation. "I can ask you to perform specific work. You have the right to refuse, but you must explain, in writing, why. If there is a dispute -- which I certainly don't anticipate -- Niko will arbitrate." He peered at her intently. "I think you can trust him, even if you don't trust me."

Tris felt her cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. "I trust you," she said.

He nodded, then went on. "The contract is for five years. It's non-transferrable: if I should die within that time, you are free to make a new contract with my heir, or not, as you choose. If I'm alive when it expires, we can discuss whether to continue the arrangement."

He held out the scroll, and she took it. His hand was steady and his grip strong. "I think you have far more than five years left in you, Your Grace."

"Gods willing." He indicated the contract. "Think about it for a few days. Have an advocate look it over. Talk to your friends, or your teachers, if you like." The duke stood to go, and Tris quickly got up and curtseyed. "Call on me when you decide," he said. "I'll let myself out."

Tris unfurled the scroll, but she was too excited to actually read. It didn't matter what it said, anyway: she did trust him. "I guess I shouldn't have fired the housekeeper," she murmured. "I'd better see about finding a new one."

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot. I think Tris could have some great adventures working for the duke... but really, do you want to die of old age waiting for me to write it? Yeah, me neither.
> 
> But Tris's new job could turn up as a side point in a ficlet about something else, somewhere down the road. You just never know.
> 
> Many thanks to Lisafer, aka q_fics, for beta-reading this story and helping me smooth out some rough edges.


End file.
